Buffalo Palace by Terry C. Johnston Read Free Book Online Page B

grin. “That’s a awful tempting offer, Edna Mae.”
    “It’s a offer only a
crazy
man like you’d turn down, ain’t it?”
    Remembering what he had told the Franklin shopkeeper, Titus leaned forward, kissed her forehead. “I am a bit crazy. But—a man never knows what the future holds for him.”
    “Ever’ now and then … you remember me, won’cha?”
    “Said I was
crazy,”
he replied with a wide grin. “Not no idjit what can’t remember the feel of a good woman. And you are a good woman.”
    Reluctantly she got to her feet. “Good-bye, Mr. Bass.”
    “Good-bye, Edna Mae.”
    He watched her turn and quickly sprint across the grassy yard, her feet slicked with dew until she was lost in the dark shadows of the dogtrot, where she would slip back into her cabin, to wait out the minutes until sunrise with her children.
    In the sudden cold vacuum that she left, he felt sorry for leaving her and this place. Then he felt an even deeper remorse for having decided to stop over. But as he yankedon his clothes, Titus decided what was done was done. Some unseen hand had guided him here, perhaps. And there was no denying that he might well have needed her as much as she had needed him.
    Edna Mae was putting an end to something.
    What with Titus Bass standing at the precipice of the adventure of his lifetime.
    Maybeso they had both been fated to cross paths just when they needed each other the most.
    By the time he had the blankets rolled up and ready to lash onto the mare, he heard the scrape of the door across its jamb. Turning, he found the settler emerging from the cabin, a steaming china cup in each hand as he stepped off the narrow porch and onto the dewy grass.
    “Promised you coffee, Titus,” he said as he presented the cup to Bass.
    Self-consciously, he took it from the man. “Smells damned good.” Nervously twisting inside as he took that first steaming sip, Titus figured the settler couldn’t help but know.
    Eyes not touching, they drank in silence for some time, savoring the quiet of the morning as the gray turned to bluish-purple off in the distance—back to the east where both of them had left a life behind them.
    “You’re ready to be off … it appears to me,” the man said to break that stillness of time.
    “Dallied long enough,” he replied, then hated himself for saying it. Making it sound the way he did, what with the man knowing about Edna Mae creeping off to the lean-to.
    The farmer asked, “You a breakfast man?”
    “A’times, I am.”
    “Maybe you’ll stay on while I rustle us up some—”
    “I—I feel the pull to be on my way,” Titus interrupted, feeling the embarrassment bordering on shame all the way down to the soles of his feet.
    “I could have the missus wrap up some of the leavin’s from supper—”
    “I thankee for your kindness and all,” Bass broke in again. “But—I’ll do just fine.”
    Taking a step closer to Titus, the settler looked Bass squarely in the eye, and with an even voice he said, “Sheneeded you … so there ain’t no reason to feel ashamed for it.”
    “Damn,” he sighed with disgust at having his fears confirmed. “I shouldn’t have got myself—”
    “Listen here, Mr. Bass,” the man interrupted this time with a doleful wag of his head. “Edna Mae is her own woman. Allays has been. I figure she knows her own mind too, and I don’t hold you on account for that. She’s a widow now. Been one too damned long for my way of thinking. True enough, she may’ve been my brother’s wife, but likely you done her what she needed.”
    “Look here—I swear I didn’t come out here for none of that to happen.”
    He held his empty hand up as if to silence Bass and pursed his lips a moment before he said, “Like I said, chances are you done her what she needed. And … for that, I can thank you.” He switched the coffee cup to his left hand and held out the right. “I wish you God’s speed, Mr. Bass.”
    Eagerly he accepted the man’s big,